


Did I Stutter?

by A_M_Kelley



Series: Tumblr Made Me Do It [10]
Category: DC Extended Universe, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Because of Reasons, Canon-Typical Violence, Crimes & Criminals, Embarrassment, Established Relationship, Happy Feet is also referenced, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Minor Character Death, Pet Names, Sassy Oswald, Sexual Tension, This Is STUPID, Tumblr Prompt, Victor done goofed up, maybe ooc?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:37:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5048815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_M_Kelley/pseuds/A_M_Kelley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things were said, mistakes were made, and Victor bites off more than he can chew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Did I Stutter?

**Author's Note:**

> So this is actually a horrible story... But I need more Penguin/Zsasz in my life. Mostly rated M because some people die.
> 
> Inspired by these two prompts on Tumblr:
> 
> <http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/131248946304/imagine-one-of-your-otp-calling-the-other-the>
> 
> <http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/129351514768/imagine-person-a-of-your-otp-absolutely-despises>

It had been another slow night at the club and Oswald had remained oblivious as to how disinterested and bored the other patrons were. It didn’t come to his attention until a pair of men started booing his mother off the stage. It wasn’t the first time someone thought they could disrespect his mother and get away with it, but this time he’d make sure it was the last.

These men needed to be made out of an example to everyone present and who better to do that than Victor Zsasz. Oswald had called him over from the bar and Victor immediately acted as crowd control, coming to snatch the men out of their seats and dragging them over to his boss. Victor threw the men down on their knees in front of Oswald and walked around to take his place by Oswald’s side.

“What’s the matter, gentlemen?” Oswald asks in a condescending tone as he tilts his head to one side. “Are you not entertained by the talent on stage?”

The men are about to curse and protest until they look up and notice who stood before them. Everyone had laughed about Gotham’s _Penguin_ behind his back because they all thought he was a joke. That, however, wasn’t the case when you were face to face with him. Because only then do you remember what he’s capable of and what he’s done to get to the top of the proverbial heap.

“With all do respect, Mr. Cobblepot, we didn’t mean nothing by it we were just having a laugh y’know?” One of the men stammers.

“Yeah! Too much alcohol,” the other pipes up, pleading for his life.

“ _With all do respect_?” Oswald echoes with an amused scoff. He gives Victor a smile and lets out a laugh, getting the hitman to join in with his own subtle chuckle. “Hear that Victor? Now they know about respect all of a sudden. How funny is that?”

“Terribly convenient if you ask me, sir,” Victor replies with a monotone voice and placid expression. He stares pitifully down at the men he knows are going to die, but doesn’t hesitates to stoke the fire even more. “They sound sorry, but I don’t think they really mean it. Perhaps they need a lesson in respect.”

“You know, I was thinking the same thing,” Oswald concurs, grinning widely at his henchman.

“I could take them home with me and work on them for a few days. See how sorry they are then,” Victor offers, staring coldly down at the men without so much as batting an eye.

“No! Please! We’re sorry Mr. Cobblepot! Please don’t do this!” They seem to beg in unison.

“No, no, no… I don’t think that will be necessary, Mr. Zsasz. Although, I do like the way you think,” Oswald says, ignoring the pleas that fall flatly on his ears. “No, a simple apology should suffice.”

Victor almost looks disappointed by this, but Oswald’s the boss. Oswald makes a gesture for Butch to go fetch his mother from the stage and bring her over towards the center of the room. She holds onto Butch’s arm as she comes to a stop in front of the men who had crushed her moment on stage and stares down at them with a hurt expression.

“See what you did? You came into my establishment and hurt my mother’s feelings while she was giving you a lovely performance,” Oswald informs with a polite and docile tone, the one he usually uses around his mother. “Apologize to her.”

“We are very and truly sorry, Mrs. Cobblepot,” one of them says. “You have a very lovely voice and we didn’t mean any disrespect.”

Everyone in the club is waiting patiently in anticipation as the silence stretches on for an ungodly amount of time until Mrs. Cobblepot speaks up finally.

“Apology accepted,” she says with the same sad expression on her face.

Oswald seems satisfied with this and nods to Butch to take his mother away so she doesn’t have to see what happens next. He gives Victor a little side glance and the hitman seems to catch wind as to what’s about to transpire.

“Thank you, gentlemen. I really do appreciate it,” Oswald commends, smiling from ear to ear as if this whole situation is water under the bridge. “It seems my mother is a _very_ forgiving person. Unfortunately, that’s one character trait I don’t share.”

Oswald takes pleasure in the way their faces seem to fall almost instantly at this news, terrified by what it might mean. Victor grins wickedly beside him, itching to see what Oswald will do next. Victor would be lying if he said he didn’t get off on the little psychotic gleam Oswald gets in his eyes in moments like this. Oswald relishes in their clueless expressions a little longer than Victor would like, as it makes the situation just a bit anticlimactic, which makes him antsy, but he waits patiently because Oswald pays him to be.

Oswald nods once to convey his silent order for Victor to take them out, but when Victor doesn’t move a muscle Oswald turns to him and stares at him incredulously.

“ _Ahem_ ,” Oswald prompts, jerking his head over towards the men when he catches Victor’s gaze.

“What?” Victor inquires nonchalantly, loving the sour look on his boss’ face.

“ _Handle it_ ,” Oswald orders, getting irritated by Victor’s delayed reaction to his order.

“You seem to have the whole situation under control,” Victor points out, still sore from being denied earlier. “Why do I have to _handle it_?”

“Because you’re the strong, sensitive murdering type,” Oswald deadpans sarcastically, getting pissy with Victor’s willful defiance. “Because that’s what I pay you to do. Why do you think?” Oswald reminds, raising his voice.

“Alright, alright… Take it easy,” Victor replies calmly. “No need to get your feathers all ruffled.”

Oswald makes a particularly sour bitch face at this.

Victor tries not to smile so much as he draws his firearm and shoots both men point blank in the head with a quick _pew pew_. Victor doesn’t even blink as he kills them. People around them gasp and flinch at the low hiss Victor’s silencer gives off, but no one dares to move, or speak up for that matter, as the men drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

“There, handled and dealt with,” Victor proclaims as if it’s no big deal, holstering his gun as he watches the carpet begin to stain with blood. “Happy now, _Mumble_?”

The word slips out before Victor can stop himself and the color immediately drains from his face.

He wasn’t one to gamble so recklessly with his life like this, but he couldn’t resist using the pet name in front of a bunch of people. If there was one name you didn’t dare say in front of Oswald Cobblepot it was _Mumble_. Ever since the movie Happy Feet came out, people thought it would be funny to use the main penguin’s name as a tasteless insult for the bird-like man. People knew better than to ever call him by that name for it would surely mean their life.

Now, Victor isn’t one to scare so easily, or at all really, but the fact that Oswald’s mother was just booed off stage and there were people present only seemed to cement Victor’s fate further. He opts to stammer out an apology to express how sorry he is, fessing up to his blunder. He half expects Oswald to kill him with his bare hands right then and there, but it never happens. Instead, Oswald just stands there with wide eyes as a deep blush spreads across his freckled face.

“Everybody out,” Oswald demands, shouting at the patrons who don’t budge an inch. “Please?!”

Everyone rushes out of the establishment, scurrying away for fear of what will happen in their absence. Victor’s heart is pounding for the first time in a really long time, suddenly nervous by the fact that him and Oswald are all alone now. But when Victor spares a glance at Oswald he can see that his expression isn’t one of contempt or anger, but one of embarrassment. Almost as if he’s flustered by Victor calling him _Mumble_.

Oswald knows he should be teaching Victor a lesson as well for calling him by that dumb name, but the truth is he likes the way it sounds when Victor says it. He hadn’t said it with malice or to mock him, per se. It sounded more like a term of endearment used amongst friends. Or, in this case, lovers.

“What have I told you about calling me that in public?” Oswald warns, reprimanding Victor by grabbing him by the lapels of his suit jacket.

“I wanted to see what you would do,” Victor admits, smirking slightly. “You look so cute when you’re all flustered and angry.”

“You know better than to call me that outside of the bedroom,” Oswald whispers, being cautious of anyone who might be eavesdropping.

“Maybe you should teach me a lesson then,” Victor taunts, pressing closer to Oswald. Victor kisses Oswald softly, making his heart race even more. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“I think you’d like that more than me,” Oswald points out and he’s right.

“Doesn’t mean I still don’t deserve it,” Victor offers, wiggling the muscles where his eyebrows would be.

“Perhaps…” Oswald says slowly, regarding the man before him with a tedious rake of his eyes. “You really wanna learn a lesson?”

“Did I stutter?” Victor challenges, gaze unwavering.

Oswald smirks at Victor’s nerve.

“Okay,” Oswald says resolutely, letting go of Victor’s jacket. “You can start by cleaning this mess up. And clean the carpet while you’re at it so it doesn’t stain. Also, my mother will need a ride home, but do try to hide the dead bodies. I wouldn’t want to see her even more upset than she is now.”

Victor’s smile falters slightly and he can tell Oswald gets pleasure from ordering him around and making his do chores and errands. Oswald starts to waddle away towards the backroom, probably to see his mother off, and leaves Victor to dispose of the dead bodies. He stops and turns around when he gets to the door to give one last order.

“You better be in my office in an hour,” Oswald warns.

“An hour?” Victor echoes hollowly, clenching his jaw in response.

“Did I stutter?” Oswald mocks with a crooked grin before waddling away.

One hour? Was he serious? How the hell was Victor supposed to get rid of two, not one, but _two_ dead bodies in an hour, plus clean up blood stains _and_ take Mrs. Cobblepot home? It’s safe to assume that Victor would be setting some world records in the underworld tonight. Victor has to see the humor in his own errors, however.

He realizes now that he should be more careful what he asks for.


End file.
